


Aftercare

by kaurakahvi



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 02:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20986958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaurakahvi/pseuds/kaurakahvi
Summary: Genji's had a rough mission. Angela's set to distract him from the aches.





	Aftercare

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot believe it's been since January I put ANYTHING up. Can I say "writer's block"? Holy hell. Anyway, here's a stream-of-consciousness unblockening attempt. Enjoy your dosage of straight on this fine October day.

* * *

Her smile is adorable. Genji lowers himself back in his bed, body aching somewhere underneath the metal casing - it's all in one piece, but underneath, he feels bruised and swollen from the places he was hit earlier. It's not easy getting blown backwards, being thrown and punched and shot, not even for a cyborg; it's understandable Angela would be worried. Momentarily, perhaps, he too had been worried, although ever since becoming... this, his concern for himself has been lacking. Zenyatta's guidance helped, but it cannot replace months and years of work he must do on himself to _learn_ and _know_ what his words had already buried the seeds of in his consciousness. He must carefully nurture those seeds until they bloom, and now... perhaps they are saplings, sproutlings, little tiny things poking out of the soil of his darkness. He's learned to give a fuck, but it is not a particularly large one, at least not before Angela's there.

Yes, her smile is adorable. On the phone's screen she looks radiant, but only as if the screen can capture a part of her shining halo and not all of it, no matter how high Genji turns the screen's brightness. It's not all there, as some of her light is in every breath she takes, in the way sun reflects from the blue of her eyes, and in the way it plays upon her golden hair like waves in the calm of the ocean. He smiles, trying to suppress it and oddly aware of it happening, but then he relaxes again and lets it happen. What's it worth suppressing? He has no audience, no spies to ask him what he's grinning at. It's her. Just her, in her beauty, in her ease, with her top resting loosely over her shoulders and revealing her collarbones and the swell of her chest before covering the rest with its soft cotton mix fabric. Teasingly. She'd never tease, would she? Genji closes his eyes, remembering all her smirks and sly words, hidden messages, soft touches. No, she would tease. This is a tease.

He slides further back in his bed until he's lying down, at ease, one shoulder cocked above the other and head bent towards it. He lifts his phone above himself, frames the shot, pulls on a favourable filter... _snap._ Snap again. Snap snap. He's satisfied, and a small sigh escapes him as he lowers his phone again. His hair's curly in the pictures. Showers do that to him; the warmth of the water, combined with the salt of the winds in Gibraltar, they turn the thick and smooth straightness of his hair into waves. Between them, he can see the scars on his scalp - he does a double take on the picture he'd almost already sent, wondering if they show. It stings more than it should. Angela knows about those scars: she's the one who put sutures on them. She's the one who saved whatever remained of his scalp, stitched it back together, made it usable, made it... natural. She didn't replace it, knowing the value his hair had to him, or would have, or what it had to other people - suspecting it would be easier for him to have _scars_ than plating covering his skull, although the latter would have been more efficient for a weapon. She'd saved these little pieces of him for him, expecting and perhaps hoping he'd appreciate them later, that he'd find some comfort in them on his journey onwards. He had, but at first, the little imperfections (these scars) had pained him almost unbearably, so that he'd hated his hair, almost wished his whole head was nothing but a cast of metal. Now, he's only somewhat aware... that when his hair curls, people might see the white lines parting it, like seams in his skin. 

Well, one does show up in the picture. He sends it anyway. His smile is genuine in that one, still tinted by the heat on his cheekbones. He wants her to like it. He wants her to know that he likes her. He wants the teasing to end.

She sends him a heart, and the heart explodes into a cascade of hearts and confetti on the screen, the holographic front making the effect three dimensional. Genji brushes his fingertip through the rain and his smile returns. She's typing, and he waits, his fingertips feeling - he doesn't have the sensation of _cold_ of anticipation in them anymore, but he certainly feels something, like an electric tingling in the nerves running through the touchpads. Instead of a message, she sends him a picture; she's holding a torn piece from one of her notebooks, the ends of some hand-written lines visible on the corner where she'd torn it, and the paper covers her front almost completely.

"HOT STUFF" it reads, written with a mechanical pencil. 

He takes a breath and closes his eyes, lifting his phone next to his lips. Scarred, like the rest of him, but still soft, or at least soft-looking, he hopes; he whispers against the phone, thumb holding the button for record. Then it's sent - he can almost see her open the video file, and then replay the clip over with the phone closer to her ear to hear what he's saying.

"Just for you," his lips trace the words.   
Is it explicit enough? Does it make his intentions clear?

She sends him a video file, too; he opens it with trembling fingers. It's another torn note - no, the same one, only the script this time is on the blank backside. It says;  
"Who do you think mine are for?"

The note falls lower on the screen - she's holding it with her lips. It tilts, then drops from her mouth, leaving her lips parted, the front of her teeth visible. The tip of her tongue runs over the underside of her upper lip... and the video ends.

Genji swallows thickly, and a shiver rushes through him like a jolt of electricity.  
He'd take a beating every day for aftercare like this.


End file.
